


And Done With

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Casual Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 10:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6075462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BFF fill for the prompt: "let's do it just once to get it out of our systems" smut please!</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Done With

"Oh, yeah, I think we should probably have sex," Clarke says. Bellamy jerks up and hits his head on the cabinet, which might have been her plan. She's a dick sometimes; she's good with it.

"Excuse me, what?" he asks. When he catches her expression, he crosses his arms over his chest, unamused. "Oh, you're fucking with me. Cool. Thanks for the head injury."

"It's mild. You definitely don't have a concussion. And I'm not fucking with you."

"Uh huh. Sure you're not."

"Seriously, I'm not. I think it's a good idea."

There's another pause, and then he nods. "Okay, fine, I'll bite. Why is this a good idea?"

"I do it with all my roommates. Or, well, all the hot ones."

"You fuck all your roommates," he repeats.

"Just to get it out of our systems. You remember Lexa? My roommate senior year of college?"

"Vaguely."

"We had all this sexual tension when we lived together and it was weird and epic and awkward and I honestly thought we'd get married or something. And then we finally hooked up and the sex was so bad. Like, we were not at all compatible. It was actually so awful it was funny, we both started cracking up halfway through."

"I really do not get the point of this story."

"I just think it's a good idea to get it over with. You live with someone you're attracted to and it can fuck with your head. So, yeah. We have sex, and then it'll be done, and we won't fuck up being roommates with weird tension."

He licks his lips, and then grins at her. "What I'm getting from this conversation is that I'm hot and you're into me."

She refuses to blush. 

It is, admittedly, a little weird, having this conversation with _Bellamy_. She was roommates with his sister freshman year of college, and he was sort of around, not really a friend, but a fixture nonetheless, and he's kept on being a persistent presence in her life ever since. She's still not sure _friend_ is the right word, but when she has a problem, Bellamy is the person she calls on. She knows she can trust him and depend on him, always. 

So, yeah, it's weird. But she thinks that's more of a reason to do this, honestly; being into Bellamy really could get out of hand. They need to stop that before it becomes a thing.

"You know you're hot," she says. "Seriously, it'll be good for roommate harmony."

He pauses. "Did you fuck my sister?"

"Your sister is straight. So, no."

"Okay."

"Are you agreeing we should hook up, or are you just happy I didn't fuck your sister?"

"Both." He sits down across from her with his cereal. "I'd say we could do it now, but I have a _concussion_ , so--"

Clarke snorts. "Quit whining, Bellamy."

*

She doesn't want to push him, so she doesn't bring it up again. It's Saturday and she has no particular plans, just chores and trying to get some art done, so she cleans up her room and then settles in with her sketchbook on the couch to draw while she watches TV. It makes TV feel more productive.

Bellamy sits down next to her after about twenty minutes, takes her sketchbook out of her hands, and kisses her.

She's thought about kissing Bellamy before, mostly because she occasionally has dreams about it. Which was kind of alarming in and of itself. Sex dreams she can handle; she's had sex dreams about a lot of her friends. But every now and then she has _relationship_ dreams about Bellamy, where they're kissing or holding hands or she's just curled up in his arms, warm and secure, and she wakes up feeling disconcerted, cold, and alone.

Anyway. Yeah. Kissing Bellamy. That's happening.

It's not like it was in her dreams, because dream-kissing never really feels like real kissing, but he is how she thought he'd be. He's in control without being too pushy about it, firm and confident, with a slight tremble in his fingers, giving away that he's still nervous, like he thinks she might not have meant it.

Clarke kisses back after a second of shock, because this was her idea, and he makes a soft noise and presses closer.

"On the couch?" she murmurs against his mouth, tangling her hands in his hair. She's gotten to play with it a few times, but never as much as she wants to. She loves his hair.

"You're the expert," he says, moving in for another kiss. "Where are we supposed to do it?"

She gets lost in the press of his mouth for a minute, and then regains herself. "You have condoms?" she asks.

"Yeah."

"Then your room." 

She tugs him off the couch and he follows, no hesitation. It's--well, it's what she wanted, right? It's a good idea. It will definitely help.

"You don't have condoms?" he asks.

"Probably not your condoms of choice. They're going on your dick, I figure you're the expert."

He snorts, and she tugs her shirt off once they're in his room, is going for her jeans when he puts his hand on her wrist. "What, I don't even get to get you naked?" he asks, sounding amused. He leans in to kiss her again, soft and slow. "If we're going to do this, it might as well be _fun_."

Her breath catches at the stroke of his thumb against her hip, but her voice is steady. "Fun, huh?" she asks, and tugs him in.

And it _is_ fun. She and Bellamy have always had the kind of relationship that involves a lot of teasing and competition, showing their affection with bickering and one-upping each other, and it translates easily into hooking up. He gives her short, sharp kisses, lets her pull his shirt off and crowds her back onto the bed. He's kind of unbelievably built, considering he's a high-school history teacher, and Clarke lets her hands roam all over his abs and arms, making him laugh.

"Ticklish?" she asks, teasing her fingers up his sides, and he pushes her down for another long kiss.

"It's like you've never slept with anyone with muscle definition before," he says, and unhooks her bra for her.

"I just didn't know _you_ had muscle definition," she says, and gasps as his mouth finds her nipple. It should really be weird, that this is _Bellamy_ , but it feels surprisingly normal.

Well, not _normal_. It's outstanding. He's really good with his mouth.

She tangles her hand back into his hair, slides her leg over his so she can rub up against him. "Fuck, Bellamy," she breathes, and he pulls up to grin at her.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up. You know you're good at sex."

He nuzzles between her breasts, moves to the other one to give it his attention. "Just glad you're into this," he says. "It would be a crime if your boobs were this amazing and they weren't an erogenous zone for you."

"God, you're a fucking dork," she teases, pushing up against him again, more deliberate. "I'm clearly not doing enough here if you're still coherent enough to say _erogenous zone_."

He grazes his teeth against her nipple. "You've got plenty of time." His fingers stray to the button on her jeans. "So, do I get to eat you out, or is this just my dick in you and we're done?"

"Do you want to eat me out?" she asks, trying to ignore the rush of arousal at the mere thought of his head between her legs, his mouth working her clit, her cunt. 

He presses a wet kiss to the underside of her breast and keeps going, moving down her stomach. "Yeah."

"Then, yeah, you should get that out of your system," she says, already going breathless. "That's the point, right?"

"Uh huh," he says, and she lifts her hips so he can pull off her jeans and underwear. 

There's an uncomfortable minute when he just stares at her, and she starts to feel nervous, like he's going to change his mind, but then he swears under his breath and surges up to kiss her again, to her total shock.

"Fuck," he says, fingers finding her clit, firm and steady. "Anything I should know? Anything you really hate?"

She pushes into his fingers, the pressure perfect. This was such a good idea. "I trust you," she says, and he kisses her again.

"Okay," he breathes, and replaces his fingers with his mouth, all hot, wet suction that makes her gasp. He slides his fingers inside her instead, two going in easily and then three, curling up. 

Clarke hasn't gotten laid in a few months, which was another reason sleeping with Bellamy was a good idea, because she's hard up and she definitely would have had started thinking about this more and more. She really needed to have some good sex, even leaving aside the roommate thing.

And, god, it's so good.

"Bellamy," she says, and he makes an encouraging noise, pushing his fingers in deeper, searching for the right spot. Her eyes slam shut when he finds it, and she gasps. "Yeah, right there, Bell." She wets her lips, cards her fingers in his hair. "You like it when I say your name?" she asks, and he makes an affirming sound and does something _amazing_ with his tongue. "Fuck, yeah. You're so fucking good, Bellamy."

He grinds his hips against the mattress, which is one of the hottest things that's ever happened to her in her life, and then he's a man on a fucking mission, stroking her g-spot relentlessly, sucking her clit, and she doesn't _quite_ scream his name when she comes, but it's close.

"Fucking--" she manages, when she recovers her breath, and pulls him up for a messy, wet kiss. He's grinning into it, smug, and Clarke shoves his jeans off with absolutely no finesse. "Inside me. Now." And then she actually _sees_ him, already hard, his fucking _perfect_ dick, and she can't help wrapping her fingers around him.

He laughs against her shoulder, breathless. "Are you just gonna give me a hand job? I thought you wanted me to fuck you."

"No, I just--" She huffs. "How do you look better naked than I thought you would? I already thought you were gonna look great naked."

"Mm," he agrees, thrusting against her fingers a little. He's fucking _hung_. Of course he is. He would be. He's infuriatingly good at everything. "Tell me more about how much you think about me naked."

"Dreams don't count," she says, and he bites down, hard.

"No, dreams are even better," he says. He wets his lips. "Seriously, do you want me to--"

"Please," she says, letting go of him, and he kisses her again as he fumbles to find a condom.

"How do you, uh--is this good, or you want to be on top, or--"

She pulls him down to kiss him again, guides him toward her. He laughs into her mouth and takes over, pushing into her, filling her up, and, _fuck_.

"Bellamy," she gasps, and he kisses under her ear.

"You don't _have_ to say my name all the time," he teases.

She wraps her leg around his hip to pull him in faster. "I like saying your name."

He doesn't respond, just slides all the way in, and then there's a moment of adjustment, longer than she needs, so she rolls her hips, and he swears and starts fucking her, hard and fast, just like she wants, and she scrambles to kiss him again, since she won't be able to any more, once they're done.

He gets his fingers on her clit again, and he manages to get her off twice before he comes, swearing into her neck.

They stay together, breathing hard, his dick still inside her, for a few long minutes, and then Bellamy rolls off, gets the condom taken care of, flops onto the bed, not touching her anymore, but still warm at her side.

"So, you get everything you wanted?" he asks.

"Sure," says Clarke. It would be very easy to roll back into him, to cuddle up and take a nap. She could use a nap. But that's not what this is about. "Thanks."

"Literally any time." He yawns and rolls out of bed, and Clarke watches as he picks up his boxers and makes a face. "Can I take the shower, or you want to go first?"

"Go ahead, my legs aren't working yet."

"Awesome. I'll be done in like ten."

She's still in his bed when he comes out of the shower, half dozing.

"You just gonna live there now?" he teases. He's wearing his stupid towel and his hair is a mess of damp curls. She's not supposed to want to pull him back into bed. They dealt with this. Sexual tension resolved.

"It is pretty comfy," she says, but does make herself get up and grab her clothes. "I just figured I'd wait until the shower was free."

"Sure," he says, easy, and drops the towel.

Clarke flees.

*

"I think my plan backfired," she admits to Raven, two weeks later.

"Which plan?"

Clarke pauses, tries to remember if she ever mentioned this plan to Raven, or told her about her "fuck your roommates early" philosophy. She sort of thought she had. At some point. 

"I didn't tell you about this?" she asks, careful.

Raven and Gina exchange a look. "Tell me what?" says Raven.

"I, um. I slept with Bellamy?" It comes out like a question, even though she definitely did. She had the best sex of her life with Bellamy, and now she can't stop thinking about it. Which is the opposite of how this was supposed to work. 

"Welcome to the club," says Raven. "What was the plan, exactly? Was the plan just to fuck him? That's not really a plan."

"It's what I do with roommates. To, you know. Get rid of the sexual tension and awkwardness. It seemed like a good idea."

Raven snorts. "You do this with every roommate?"

"Just the ones I'm attracted to who are interested. It usually works!" she protests, when Raven starts laughing.

"How many times have you done this?" Gina asks, clearly curious in spite of herself. She and Clarke aren't that close, but she dated Bellamy for a while and is dating Raven now, which means she has good taste in people. And she's cute and fun. 

"Three? Or, four, now. Bellamy was four. It's not weird!" she adds, because Raven is _still_ laughing. "It works. We always realized it was, you know--not that great, and there's no awkwardness about, like, sharing a living space and occasionally being half-naked around each other. The mystery is gone."

"And now it backfired because sex with Bellamy _was_ that great."

"He's really, um--" She rubs her face. "Shut _up_!"

"I just can't believe you thought that would work. And he agreed to it?" Raven asks.

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I thought he was slightly less of a dumbass than you are." She glances at Gina. "Did you tell him why you broke up with him?"

Gina inclines her head. "I didn't really have to. He guessed."

"I'm missing half this conversation and it's really annoying," Clarke grumbles.

"Look, you know that whole stupid stereotype about how guys tug on girls' pigtails when they like them?" Raven asks. "That's Bellamy and you. I thought he finally got his head out of his ass and noticed."

"He did," Gina confirms.

Clarke stares between them, slack-jawed. "He's not," she says. "He's definitely not. There's no--absolutely not. I told him we should--and he--" 

Well, he did agree, and he wanted to go down on her, and make out a lot, and he's been aggressively normal about the whole thing, but he's also been wearing clothing a lot less and standing too close to her and generally driving her out of her mind with the desire to haul him down for another round, which is--probably what Bellamy would do, if he wanted more from her. Because she was the one who told him she wanted to fuck him to get it out of their systems, and it was so fucking _good_ \--

"Fuck," she says, and puts her head down on the bar. 

Raven pats her shoulders. "Didn't you ask him to move in?"

"Yeah."

"And you fuck all your roommates."

"Not _all_ my roommates."

"But you knew, if Bellamy moved in, you were gonna try to fuck him."

"Yeah," she admits.

"And now you did, and you want to do it more. And he's into you." Raven pats her again. "Yeah. You really fucked this one up. What are you even _doing_ here, honestly?"

"Having a girl's night?" Clarke offers, weakly.

"I won't be offended if you just leave me hanging out with my girlfriend," Raven says. "Seriously, this was, like, three weeks of entertainment at once. I can't believe you. I figured you guys would have figured it out by now. You _live together_."

"He's Octavia's brother and your ex and Gina's ex and we didn't even like each other for _years_ ," Clarke protests. "How was I supposed to know?"

"You're bad at feelings, so I'm gonna let this one slide. Go talk to your roommate."

"Thanks," she says. "Sorry I apparently factored into your breakup?" she adds to Gina, and Gina laughs.

"I'm over it. Good luck."

*

Bellamy's on the couch with his grading, right where she left him. He's shirtless, which is pretty normal for him now. Clarke figured he just decided once she'd seen him naked, there was no need for modesty, but in retrospect, he probably is trying to get her to lose control and jump him again. Which is cute, but honestly. He could have just said something.

"Back already?" he asks, surprised. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine." She flops down on the couch next to him. "How's grading?"

"Endless." There's a pause, and then he puts the papers aside. "Seriously, what?"

"What?"

"You said you might crash at Raven's, and now you're home before ten. Did you guys have a fight?"

"Oh, no, we're good. She and Gina are playing footsie under the bar."

He grins. "That's what you get for going to her girlfriend's bar."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it? They're both awesome, and I helped two hot girls hook up. That's the dream, Clarke." She shoves his shoulder, and he grins. "Come on, Raven and I barely dated. And I wasn't, uh--I liked Gina, but we weren't that serious either. So, yeah. I'm glad they're happy."

They lapse into silence, and Clarke tries to figure out what to say. Unfortunately, she ends up with, "Why don't you wear shirts anymore?"

"Why are you being weird?"

"I asked first."

"I'm pretty sure I did, actually," he says. "I'm being concerned about you. What did you and Raven talk about? Don't tell me you just couldn't deal with her and Gina's PDA."

"We talked about you." He stiffens, and Clarke smiles, fidgets a little with the ring she's wearing. "I said that the whole sex thing didn't work."

"What do you mean it didn't work?" he asks, sounding genuinely offended. "That was--"

She laughs. "It was great sex, Bellamy. Don't worry. I'm not trashing your skills." When he still looks huffy, she slides closer to him. "It didn't work _because_ it was great sex. It was supposed to make me stop wanting you. And it really, really didn't."

"Oh," he says. "Yeah. That."

"And Raven and Gina said that probably wasn't what you were hoping it would do either."

"No." He clears his throat. "Yeah, no, you can--we can do it again," he offers, and Clarke kind of wants to shake him.

Instead, she takes his cheek gently, kisses him soft and slow, and keeps it soft and slow even when he tries to speed it up. He smells clean, like he showered recently, but there's stubble on his cheeks under her fingers, and she can't believe she didn't figure this out sooner. She has dreams about _snuggling with him_. Of course she's into him.

"Clarke," he says, a little strangled, and she bumps her nose against his.

"You should date me," she says, grinning.

"Oh thank god," he says, hauls her into his lap and kisses her again, laughing. "Yeah, I really should."

"Was your actual plan to just not wear clothes until I jumped you again?"

"You did it once, I thought you had a good time--" His hands are sliding under her shirt, and his grin is huge.

"I really did. We should definitely do it some more."

"Until we get it out of our systems?" he teases.

"I'm not sure that's going to happen."

The kiss this time is long, sweet, and, yeah, she's definitely an idiot for not having realized this on her own, a long time ago. Or at least when they had sex. She had so many chances. "Cool," he says. "I hope it doesn't."


End file.
